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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24428038">Swamp Gas</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabeth_at_the_helm/pseuds/annabeth_at_the_helm'>annabeth_at_the_helm</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Swamp Shenanigans [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>MASH (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>1950s, Bad Smells, Korean War, Language, M/M, attempts at humor, sexually explicit allusions</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:35:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>642</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24428038</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabeth_at_the_helm/pseuds/annabeth_at_the_helm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"It smells worse than usual in here," he said with another sniff. "Not that you two daffy doodles don't always make this place smell like a noxious swamp anyway, just like your juvenile name."</i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>"Trapper" John McIntyre/Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Swamp Shenanigans [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764046</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Swamp Gas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for "noxious" for Get Your Words Out Yahtzee prompt set #7, large straight.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Frank entered on Trapper's exit, and sniffed, glancing around; Hawkeye had had just enough time to pull his blanket half over his lap so that he was decent.</p>
<p>	"It smells worse than usual in here," he said with another sniff. "Not that you two daffy doodles don't always make this place smell like a noxious swamp anyway, just like your juvenile name."</p>
<p>	"Oh come now, Frank, you'll hurt my feelings," Hawkeye said, rousing himself just enough for some verbal sparring. "That name was perfectly chosen, you must admit."</p>
<p>	"Based on the fetid stink and your damn dirty socks all over everything—" he picked up a single sock between thumb and forefinger, the better to barely touch it, then flung it at Hawkeye "—this place <i>is</i> a swamp, you're right."</p>
<p>	"First of all, Frank, that's Trapper's sock, not mine. His are the socks, mine are the underwear." Frank was tossing underwear and socks off his bunk at a truly remarkable rate, disgust written all over his features the whole time. Hawkeye had to swallow his snicker because they'd deliberately covered his bunk in dirty laundry while he'd been off macking on Margaret. "Secondly, where did you learn such a big vocabulary word? It stinks, that much is true, but—well, how wonderful to discover there's something in your cranial cavity besides air and self-important notions."</p>
<p>	Margaret chose that moment to knock and enter, pausing as her nose wrinkled in disgust.</p>
<p>	"Oh, Pierce, it smells like a latrine in here," she said. "Such a loathsome stench. What <i>is</i> it, I wonder?"</p>
<p>	"Trapper's dirty socks," Hawkeye said promptly, some of his lassitude vanishing. He might have post-op duty soon, and he'd barely even napped before the last bout of surgery—and then wasted sleeping time on fucking Trapper—but some of his energy was returning at the prospect of a good battle of wits. To the death, if he could help it, and God knew, Frank was an unarmed person.</p>
<p>	"That's his <i>socks</i>?" she said, clearly appalled. "It smells like—like—I don't even know. Rank, like a swamp."</p>
<p>	"That's what I said," Frank said triumphantly, looking just <i>so proud</i> of himself.</p>
<p>	Hawkeye supposed it probably smelled like a combination of ass—he hadn't showered since his last bout in surgery, either—and his jizz, which was admittedly a salty, smelly tinge to the air. But then, Trapper hadn't smelled much better, and all that exertion—all that hanky panky as they rolled about in Hawkeye's bunk—probably hadn't helped matters, seeing as all the sweating they'd done.</p>
<p>	"It's absolutely foul," she said, glancing at Frank. "How do you stand it?"</p>
<p>	"Oh, it's simple, Margaret," he said in a gooey tone—about as gooey as Hawkeye's belly, covered in his own jizz, currently felt— "I just spend all my time with you, because you smell sweet and lovely all the time."</p>
<p>	"Lovely sentiment, Frank," she said, pinching her nose closed, "but even I sweat. Still, this noisome stench is beyond simple sweat."</p>
<p>	"You're right, Margaret," Frank agreed, mooning over her. "Should we decamp?" He looked at Hawkeye. "See what I did there, Pierce?"</p>
<p>	"Yes, yes, you're very clever. Get out if you're going," Hawkeye said with a wave of his hand. But even as the door swung closed with a <i>thwack</i> behind them, Hawkeye was inhaling. He nearly gagged.</p>
<p>	"Fuck, Trap," he said when the door opened and his erstwhile lover came in, "it really does smell like ass in here. Think you we should clean and air this place out a little?"</p>
<p>	"Ya could try," Trapper said, "but all of Korea stinks pretty similar, ya know?" And he threw his wet towel so it slapped Hawkeye in the face.</p>
<p>	"I suppose I deserved that," he said, muffled by damp fabric. Trapper's chuckle said that he had forgiven Hawkeye—but that he definitely deserved it.</p>
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